XXXIV.

Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,13

And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.

XXXV.

There was the Door to which I found no Key: There was the Veil through which I could not see : Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE

There was—and then no more of THEE and ME.14

XXXVI.

Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;

Nor Heaven, with those eternal Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.

XXXVII.

Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind

The Veil of Universe I cried to find

A Lamp to guide me through the darkness; and Something then said—“ An Understanding blind."

XXXVIII.

Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
I lean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn:

And Lip to Lip it murmur'd-"While you live, “Drink !—for, once dead, you never shall return.”

XXXIX.

I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,

And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take-and give!

XL.

For I remember stopping by the way

To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay :
And with its all-obliterated Tongue

It murmur'd-" Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"

XLI.

For has not such a Story from of Old
Down Man's successive generations roll'd

Of such a clod of saturated Earth
Cast by the Maker into Human mould?

XLII.

And not a drop that from our Cups we throw 15 On the parcht herbage but may steal below

To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden-far beneath, and long ago.

XLIII.

As then the Tulip for her wonted sup

Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up,

Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n

To Earth invert you like an empty Cup.

XLIV.

Do you, within your little hour of Grace,
The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace,
Before the Mother back into her arms
Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.

XLV.

And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in—Yes;
Imagine then you are what heretofore
You were hereafter you shall not be less.

XLVI.

So when at last the Angel of the drink 16
Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink,
And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff it-do not shrink.

XLVII.

And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, should lose, or know the type no more;
The Eternal Sáki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

XLVIII.

When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh but the long long while the World shall last,

Which of our Coming and Departure heeds

As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast.

XLIX.

One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,

One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste—
The Stars are setting, and the Caravan 17
Draws to the Dawn of Nothing-Oh make haste!

L.

Would you that spangle of Existence spend
About THE SECRET-quick about it, Friend!

A Hair, they say, divides the False and TrueAnd upon what, prithee, does Life depend?

.LI.

A Hair, they say, divides the False and True;
Yes; and a single Alif were the clue,

Could you but find it, to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too;

LII.

Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins Running, Quicksilver-like eludes your pains: Taking all shapes from Máh to Máhi;18 and They change and perish all-but He remains;

LIII.

A moment guess'd-then back behind the Fold Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd

Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,

He does Himself contrive, enact, behold.

LIV.

But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door,
You gaze To-day, while You are You-how then
To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?

LV.

Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine,
To-morrow's tangle to itself resign,

And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.

LVI.

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavour and dispute;

Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

LVII.

You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House
For a new Marriage I did make Carouse:

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

LVIII.

For "Is" and "IS-NOT" though with Rule and Line,19 And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define,

Of all that one should care to fathom, I

Was never deep in anything but-Wine.